"That should do it," I muttered, surveying the ice sculptures that now lined the shop’s breakroom. Thanks to a combination of barriers and ice magic, I had transformed the room into a space as frigid as a walk-in freezer.
"Hmm... yeah."
Everything looked perfect. I called out to get a second opinion.
"Prenance-san, the ice sculptures are finished. Could you come and take a look?"
I stepped over to the dormitory room we’d opened up as a dressing room. Prenance emerged wearing a surprisingly simple ensemble: a pure white top and trousers beneath an open-fronted robe. The only decoration was a delicate gold-thread embroidery on the chest.
The outfit was so pristine that even a speck of dust would have stood out, but the silver-haired man carried it with such grace that he exuded an almost mystical aura. He really was an incredibly handsome man...
"Right this way," I said.
"Oh..."
Prenance didn't seem to mind the biting cold as he scrutinized the sculptures from every conceivable angle.
"A pair of birds, a platter of fruit, a galloping beast, and my harp. They are exactly as I requested."
Tonight’s program centered on the tale of a traveler who subdued a beast that had terrorized the populace, eventually making the creature his familiar. The sculptures had been crafted to reflect those themes.
The pedestals were made of wood, provided by the troupe so that the pieces could be transported and set up on stage immediately.
"Shall we proceed with the installation as planned?" I asked.
"Yes. We should be able to move them in after the next performance. My apologies for the sudden, difficult request."
"It’s quite alright. Anything for the sake of a better show."
Prenance offered a fearless smile. "In that case, we shall ensure our performance is not overshadowed by your magnificent decorations."
After confirming a few more details, he returned to the dressing room, and I headed back to our festival stall.
"Good work, everyone," I said as I arrived. "Where do you need me?"
"Manager! Could you handle the dishes for the Li-mien?"
"On it!"
In this country, large plant leaves were commonly used to wrap stall food. However, leaves weren't suited for anything liquid, so our shop had commissioned wooden tableware.
Mary-san, one of the neighborhood women helping us, had a husband who was a woodworker, and he had graciously agreed to supply them. Once customers finished their meals, they returned the bowls to a designated window—a space occupying an entire stall—where an attendant sorted the trash from the dishes.
"I'll take the dishes and the waste!"
"You got it, boss!"
I gathered the sorted bags and hauled them back into the laundry shop.
The return window was strictly for sorting; after all, I had professionals on standby for the actual cleaning.
"I'm counting on you guys," I told the slimes.
Even though the items were different from their usual laundry duties, the Cleaner Slimes treated it like any other day. I left the organic waste for the Scavenger Slimes in the basement and headed back. By the time I returned, the first batch of dishes was already sparkling. My job was simply to ferry them back to the stall and restock the shelves.
"Next batch, please!"
"Coming!"
The sheer volume of customers was staggering. With food selling as fast as we could make it, the pile of used tableware grew relentlessly.
"Wow... this is intense."
As I shuttled back and forth, I noticed the line starting to snake down the street.
"Calm-san! Should I help organize the queue?"
"Please! That would be a huge help!"
Usually, Calm-san was the picture of poise, his hair perfectly groomed and his suit impeccable. But the heat and the frantic pace had forced him to ditch his jacket and tie his messy hair back with a bandana. He looked exactly like a seasoned festival worker. It was a rare sight, proving just how busy we really were.
"Ryoma-sama!"
"Ah, Serge-san. Good to see you again."
"You look like you have your hands full. I have some staff with a bit of free time; if you’d like, I can lend them to you."
"That would be a lifesaver!"
I gratefully accepted the extra help and set about stringing up ropes to manage the flow of the crowd.
"Found him! Manager!"
"Yes? Is something wrong?"
"A customer who just used the restroom mentioned that the water is running low."
"The water... Ah, for hand-washing! Understood, I'll fix it immediately."
I explained the situation to Serge’s staff and stepped away for a moment.
"Pardon me, management coming through. Sorry, just need to squeeze past..."
This was a simple fix—it wasn't even a breakdown. Since there was no running water on the lot, we filled large internal containers from a storage tank. The system used a wooden ladle, and the basin was supposed to refill automatically as water was scooped out. Right now, the basin was only half full.
The storage tank had simply run dry. Because we’d opened the facilities to the public, the water had been consumed much faster than anticipated.
I hurried to the tank and used water magic to top it off. The flow resumed instantly.
"Fixed... wait, what?"
The water was fine, but I noticed the soap was gone. I’d placed it in a net woven from Sticky Slime thread and tied it down, but someone had actually used a blade to cut the cord and swipe it.
The materials cost me next to nothing, but I’d still have to report the theft. What a headache.
I installed a replacement, purified myself with the shop’s Cleaner Slimes, and went back to work. Maybe I should start using my highest-strength thread for the nets tomorrow... though that might be a bit abrasive on the skin.
"Excuse me! You there!"
"Me, ma'am?"
I was mulling over security measures when a sharp-eyed woman stopped me.
"Do you work at this stall?"
"Yes, I'm the manager."
"I found this little one wandering onto the lot all by himself."
She stepped aside to reveal a young boy. I had a feeling I knew what had happened.
"It looks like he got lured away from his parents by the smell of the food. Could you call for security?"
"Certainly. I'll take care of it immediately. Please, feel free to sit and wait."
I alerted Calm-san, served them some barley tea on the house, and ran to the local security post.
Events like this were wonderful, but the more successful they were, the more exhausting they became for the organizers.
Night eventually fell. At eight o’clock, our first day of business officially concluded.
The festival fever hadn't broken yet; groups of men were still heading off to the taverns for a long night of drinking. Most of the women and children, however, were making their way home. We stopped taking orders and cleared out the last few customers. Everyone looked exhausted but relieved as they began tidying up the stall.
Meanwhile, I sat down with Sieg-san, representing the butchers, and Pauline-san, representing the neighborhood wives, to tally the day’s earnings and distribute the profits.
"Alright... this is the total revenue for today. This is the cost of materials. After subtracting the expenses, we have our net profit. Based on our agreement, that comes to 312 Suut per person. Does that look right to you?"
"...Matches my math," Pauline said.
"We really made a killing today," Sieg added with a grin. "Everyone’s going to be thrilled."
Even though our individual prices weren't high, the cost of materials had been kept low thanks to the wives' cooperation. Combined with the massive volume of sales, we’d ended up with a very healthy profit. The pay for our helpers wasn't just a bit of extra pocket change—it was roughly equivalent to three days' worth of living expenses.
"I can't thank you enough for all the help," I said.
"Oh, stop that," Pauline waved me off. "We’re the ones getting paid, after all. There’s no need to be so polite."
"Once we hand out these wages, some of the kids might decide they want to quit their day jobs and do this full-time," Sieg joked.
The two of them laughed.
"Still, the crowds were truly something else," I remarked.
"They were," Pauline agreed. "But you had the performances, Serge’s new gadgets, and plenty of places to sit. It was the perfect spot for people to gather."
It gave me high hopes for tomorrow.
"Well, we’d better get this money distributed and head home," Pauline said. "We live right next door, but we can't leave the kids alone forever."
"I’ll see you tomorrow during the break," Sieg said.
"Yes, thank you for your hard work!"
The two of them left, and I prepared to do the same. However, as I stepped outside, I spotted the members of the Semroid Troupe gathered near the wings of the stage.
What are they up to?
They were standing together in total silence. Everyone was facing the same direction, their backs to me. They were standing so close together that I couldn't see what they were looking at, but the atmosphere was heavy with concentration, as if they were centering their spirits.
I decided not to disturb them and waited for several minutes. Eventually, without any obvious signal, the tension in the air shifted.
"Good work today," I called out.
"Whoa! Oh, good work, Manager!" a young man at the back gasped, nearly jumping out of his skin.
"Ryoma-dono, did you need something?" Prenance asked.
"I just wanted to say goodnight before I headed home. I didn't mean to interrupt your... what was that?"
"A prayer," Maiya-san explained, pointing to the object of their focus. "Look."
It was a statue wrapped in a staggering number of colorful cloths, its face covered by a mask. Each cloth was only the size of a handkerchief, but there were so many of them that the figure appeared to be wearing a heavy, multilayered robe.
"Is that a statue of a god?" I asked. I’d never seen anything like it.
"It’s quite a sight, isn't it?" she replied. "You might not recognize him in that state, but that is a statue of Manoairoa-sama."
"Manoairoa..."
The name rang a bell from my studies of local mythology. While I hadn't met him personally, he was a major deity on the same level as Gain and the others.
"The God of Wind?"
"Exactly," Prenance said. "He is the great god who watches over the world as the personification of the wind. Because he is also the god of travel and the performing arts, most traveling performers are his devotees."
Apparently, while they prayed individually every day, the entire troupe gathered to offer a collective prayer whenever an engagement was particularly successful.
"And the cloths?" I asked.
"We travelers never stay in one place for long," Prenance began. "The spring breeze, the summer gale, the autumn gust, the winter chill... we arrive with the wind and depart with it. Each of these cloths is a testament to our journey."
"Whenever we have a great memory—like a new member joining, meeting a wonderful person, or a show being a huge success—we buy a single piece of cloth in that town," Maiya-san added. "You can't carry much when you're always on the move, so we turn those moments into these cloths. We wrap them around the statue to show our gratitude to the god who brought us those encounters before we set out on our next journey."
"To put it simply, it’s an old custom of our trade," Soldio-san grunted. "Couldn't tell you exactly when it started."
It made sense now. On Earth, there were memory techniques that involved associating facts with physical locations or body parts; this felt like a version of that, created by performers to preserve the highlights of their nomadic lives.
I stood there for a moment, watching in silence as the troupe members carefully packed away their god.